


the Song of Tobias

by DoubtingRabbit



Category: Christian Bible (Old Testament), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adventure, Bible slash, Bisexual Male Character, F/M, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), LGBTQ Themes, M/M, OC, Pre-Slash, Romantic Comedy, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubtingRabbit/pseuds/DoubtingRabbit
Summary: The Book of Tobit reimagined as a Good Omens fanfic for the Good Omens Big Bang 2020.It's the 8th century BCE in the cradle of civilzation where Crowley pines for Aziraphale, Aziraphale pines for Tobias, and Sara just wants this demon to stop killing her husbands already!(Embedded art by BlitheFool)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Original Male Character(s), Original Male Character(s)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 33
Collections: Good Omens Big Bang 2019





	1. MORNING

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183218036@N07/49426436973/in/album-72157712791479213/)  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part one of our thrilling saga...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183218036@N07/49426436973/in/album-72157712791479213/)

"See thither Tobias, son of Tobit of the tribe of Nephtali, and the city of Nineveh?" asketh t𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉.  
The angel noddeth, and gazeth upon the visage of the mortal world, and Tobias, with reddened cheeks.

And t𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉 spake unto the angel, saying, "Take all thy skills, Aziraphale, Principality and one of the Seven most powerful of my Angels,  
to the land of Nineveh. Lend thyself to a quest I have given unto Tobias on behalf of his father, the loyal and faithful Tobit of the tribe and city of Nephtali;  
for he is laid low beneath a tyrannical king and blinded in bad fortune. 

"Bring Tobit to the full glory of a Man of God and maketh of him a shining example among all mankind."

The angel turneth aroint from viewing the plane of all mortality and said thus to t𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉,  
"Begging thine pardon, 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉, but I was miles away."

And t𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉 did sigh.

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

"--a _real_ adventure, you know?"

Aziraphale was ashamed to admit that he did not know. He hadn't been paying attention to a word the young man sitting on his shop's front counter had said. He was far too focused on the way his sandaled feet bounced rhythmically off the ruddy plaster, and the way his auburn curls caught sunlight whilst he spoke with all animation, and that little smile that touched his eyes when he dreamed big.

"Oh, yes, a real adventure," Aziraphale said and continued to bustle about, cleaning up his rarely-ever-visited shop, and dusting off stacks of carefully-stored tablets. "And, ah, what would that all entail?"

"Aziraphale," he said, ever patient and with a smile that verged on exasperation. "I just said. But it's all right, dearest friend, I know that I'm spending far too much time here, keeping you from your work. I'll leave you to it."

"Not at all, Tobias, you're always welcome to stay as long as you like!" 

"Thank you, Aziraphale, but I have to get home for supper," Tobias replied and hopped down from his impromptu seat, heading for the door. "Dad won't start eating until Mum and I both there, he's such a stubborn traditionalist. Did you know he buried another Israelite again? And he's only just gotten back from being banished from the last time! Mum about had a fit when she heard."

The angel-in-disguise followed after him, dusting cloth in hand, and smiled at the mention of Tobit. "He's a good man, Tobias."

"I know. I just wish he wasn't so ... aggressively good." Tobias lingered in the door a moment, making Aziraphale think he had more to say before he turned back on his heel and took the angel up in a hug. "Like you. Thanks for being such a wonderful friend, Aziraphale."

"Oh, well!" was all that Aziraphale could say in the moment. He returned the hug while his body's stomach filled with butterfly wings. "Always happy to listen!"

He waved while watching Tobias head down the street towards his home, and barely noticed the new figure slipping through his door and taking up nearly the exact same space Tobias had occupied. Aziraphale turned back around, and he jumped a little when he saw, leaning against the counter, the lean figure of Crawly. This time he was dressed in Median robes with black, crisp pleats, and his hair and beard both in tightly-controlled, coppery ringlets.

"Crawly! It's been ages," Aziraphale said.

"Yeah, ages. In fact, it's Asmodeus for now, actually."

"Ah! Asmodeus, then." A smile overtook the surprised look as Aziraphale folded his hands in front of himself. "What, uh, what brings you to Nineveh?"

"Wheeling and dealing, some give-and-take, through compromise and concession."

Aziraphale's face fell to zero. "So, being a demon."

"That's the usual plan of action," Asmodeus agreed. His shadow slid behind him as he sauntered towards the angel, putting a long, dyed-black fingertip in Aziraphale's face as he said, "And! Have I got a deal for you."  
  
"What?!"

"A deal. I'm a dealmaker, now, don't you know? Didn't Sandalphon tell you? That I met with God and we had a little quid pro qu-- no? You hadn't heard about Job? With the families dying, and the running ostriches--" Asmodeus brought his elbows up and mimed ostrich wings "--none of it? Huh! I was rather proud of that one… almost got Her."

" _Crawly_ ," Aziraphale said, sitting at his table and staring at the seat next to him expectantly.

" _Asmodeus,_ " Asmodeus echoed, correcting the angel before a furrow of worry formed on his brow. "For now. Do you like it? I like it. Most of the time. That is, mostly I think it suits me, but then sometimes I don't."

He joined Aziraphale on the bench and smiled, an act that darkened the room a little faster than the sunset.

"What's this deal you're talking about, then, Asmodeus?" Aziraphale asked, giving his opinion on the name by his casual usage of it.

"Well! Be a proper host and offer me a drink first!" Asmodeus said, sending the angel off on the errand of being gracious. 

As Aziraphale gathered up a jug of water and some clay cups, the demon made himself comfortable lounging on the bench at his leisure. The angel rejoined him with a refreshment and an apology for not having anything stronger on hand.

The bridge of Asmodeus' nose crinkled up with distrust, and with a wave of his hand over the top of his cup, he dismissed Aziraphale's apology altogether. With a sip of the wine, the demon's smile returned.

"Sooo… Where were we?"

"A deal, Asmodeus! The deal you had for me," Aziraphale said, shoulders dropping in pure exasperation. With a flutter of his fingers over his own cup, he joined the demon with something strictly stiffer than wine.

"Ah, right! Yes, that deal. The elements are simple enough." Asmodeus ticked them off on his fingers: "Involves a trip to Media, a lovely young Israelite girl there that I'm tormenting, and fulfilling the dreams of your boy-toy."

"But, it's so dangerous! The road from Nineveh to Media is bristling with bandits," countered Aziraphale. "And--he's not my boy-toy!"

"You've been to Media and back just fine before, angel," Asmodeus said, casually picking at his pleats until they lay perfectly. "Besides, he'll get a nice little treat at the end of the journey. Miss Sara is a dish!"

"And that's another thing, why are you bedevilling this poor girl if you're so willing to just give her up to Tobias anyway?"

"My reasons are my own." Asmodeus sniffed and stood, the pleats of his robe hypnotically perfect. He drew back towards the doorway and went on, "C'mon, angel, what did you think was going to happen? Boy meets angel? Boy falls for angel? Spending his whole life talking of adventure in your little clay tablet shop?"

Asmodeus shook his head sadly and added, "No, Aziraphale. Mortals do their best when they're with other mortals. Remember the Nephilim?" before he slipped out of Aziraphale's shop, leaving him to soak in the truth all immortal beings knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my betas (NothingEnough, Cirrostratus & BlitheFool) and the Good Omens Big Bang 2019!


	2. MIDDAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183218036@N07/49427133007/in/album-72157712791479213/)  
> 

"Why hast thou returneth now, demon?" sayeth Sara, daughter of Raguel  
and the Tribe of Nephtali and the city of Media,  
upon viewing Asmodeus in her quarters. Unto this the demon gaveth no answer,  
only took up a seat at her mirror and spoke not...

"Must this betrothed also be slain?" she asketh, a furrow in her brow as the demon of lust, Asmodeus, noddeth.

"A man of two-and-seventy years? Asking for the hand of a girl of twenty?  
Seemth to me an abominable sort of behavior,  
and as such his soul belongeth to me."

As Sara could findeth no complaint with the demon's statement, she asketh the demon,  
"Ah, me! I know thou hath given good reason for each of them, but why must they die, demon?  
Why must thou tortureth me so? All the city of Media believeth me a murderess, the virgin-widow!"

"Everything for a reason, my dear Sara," sayeth the demon Asmodeus.  
Before he lefteth her in peace, Asmodeus did place a fingertip to the tip of her nose,  
and Sara smelleth the clay curls that litter the floor  
around the cleric's tablet-carving table amongst the sulfur and perfume,  
and she holdeth that knowledge in her heart.

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

As he often did these days, Aziraphale found himself arm-in-arm with Tobias and having his ear talked off by the tall, broad-shouldered, young, and very, ah, mortal man. The topic, at the moment, was how much his parents were going to love Aziraphale and how excited he was to have him over for dinner. For his part, he nodded and agreed and felt vaguely nervous.

Certainly, this was Aziraphale's mandate from God Herself, and Gabriel had left him with clear instructions not to muck it up this time, but it made him feel quite all-overish to think of giving such a dear friend away to some stranger. But work was work, and so he followed the Divine and Ineffable Plan by going along with Tobias to meet his parents.

When they arrived, Tobit, sat at the head of the dinner table, his once-dark eyes glazed with cataracts as he looked into the middle distance. Ana greeted them at the door with a, "Come in, come in! Tobias didn't tell me our guest would be so handsome!"

Aziraphale blushed and thanked her as she ushered him to a seat next to Tobias. She went on, "Now then, we've set a place for you right next to our boy, oh, he's told us so much about you, but not that you were such a looker!"

His blush deepened as Ana tweaked his cheek on her way back to the seat at her husband's side. He glanced over at Tobias, only to see him just as embarrassed--maybe even more so!--than he was, and took some comfort from that.

Tobias pulled the angel forward and announced, "Mother, Father, this is Aziraphale."

"Azariah?" said Tobit. "That's a good Hebrew name, isn't it?"

"Boy's name is Raphael," Ana said, patting his hand.

"It's ah, yes, actually Aziraphale. But oh, this all smells wonderful!" the angel said as he was served his first home-cooked meal in years. The magic that humans did with fire, meat and some spare grasses had really begun to delight him lately, even over their written artistic pursuits--such clever creatures.

"See, Ana dear, I said: it's Azariah."

"Father, it's Aziraphale," Tobias tried, but his bored tone showed he didn't think it would take. 

Aziraphale looked between the three of them and smiled sheepishly. "Yes," agreed the angel in disguise, and stated it slowly and in parts: "Az. Ira. Phale."

"Yeah. Azariah."  
  
"And the Raphael," added Ana.

"Wife!"

"Father," Tobias said, firmly and with all the patience of a man who'd spent his life straddling this exact line. "Mother. Why don't we eat? And we will talk about the trip."

"To Media?" Aziraphale asked with his mouth full of warm flatbread, having already taken Tobias' advice and started eating.

"You know the way there, my son tells me," Tobit said, feeling about the table for a moment before Ana guided his hand, and he tore off a piece of bread for his own. "I left some money as a deposit with a cousin of mine there, after my third exile and before Tobias was born. The cousin, his business has expanded since, and he has written me to let me know that the money is waiting for me. But I cannot go myself."

"Because of your--" Aziraphale had started to say, but received a gentle elbowed warning to close his mouth from Tobias.

"His _age,_ yes," Ana continued, hiding a smile with her serious tone. "It's a dangerous trip, even for a young man as strong as our Tobias, but if someone were to go with him, someone who knew the way…"

"He tells us you've been to Media before," Tobit said again as he was guided towards the main dishes. "And here you are, alive still."

And Aziraphale had made the trip, though it had been decades since he vacationed there. The road wasn't more than two days of travel, but it had become quite dangerous in the past half a century or so, and he frequently got in trouble with the higher-ups if he miracled his way through the whole trail.

This, however, was official business, and so he could be allowed a bit of abusing the Holy and Transformative Power of God Almighty.

"Yes," Aziraphale said, dabbing at the corner of his mouth. "Even with groups!" 

"Safely, it seems."

"Oh, several times it was close, yes! But I made it through all right."

"And you seem like a good young man, of the tribe of Israel." 

Well, technically, that was indeed true, in a way. And so Aziraphale agreed with a nod and a sip at an excellent wine. Suddenly, he realized that a physical gesture would not do in this instance and said, "Yes. That I am!" for Tobit's sake.

"It's settled, then. If you can guide Tobias to Media and back with my investment, we would be happy to pay you for your services."

"You don't have to pay me anything," Aziraphale said, holding up both hands and shaking his head. He was no monk or pauper, but he wouldn't be taking anything in exchange for his duties.

"See, I told you he was a genuinely good man." Tobias's warning elbow quickly turned into a warm pat on his thigh.

"Told them that, did you?" the angel asked with stars in his eyes.

Ana smiled in a maternal way as she said, "See, Tobit, darling? They'll be just fine."

"Seems like an upstanding man, yes!"

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

Aziraphale, unused to the copious amounts of praise and the fluttery feeling in his stomach every time Tobias said his name, requested a break for fresh air out back while Tobit conferred a traditional blessing on his son. Stubbing around the garden at the back of the household, he noticed a mangy dog among all the well-manicured trees and shrubs in the orchard and drew a little closer. Brindle red-and-black, scrawny with flea-bitten ears and bright yellow eyes--far too yellow for any canid--the angel knew him on sight.

"Now, really, Crawly, a snake makes just as much sense here in the orchard as a dog does."

And for a moment, Aziraphale heard silence, and mildly worried that he was out in the back garden of a young man he very much wished to impress, talking to a stray dog.

Thankfully, the demon broke the silence.

"A snake isn't known for picking a human and sticking to it like a great big moron," he replied with a strangely sardonic curl to its muzzle. "And I told you, it's Asmodeus."

"Pardon me, Asmodeus." Aziraphale glanced around and once he realized they were well enough alone, he said, "But why would you need to pick and stick to a human at all?"

"I need to get to Media, too, yanno." He scratched his ear with his back left foot. "Traveling in a group's as good as any other way. Dangerous road, and all. Wouldn't want to get mugged on my way back to torture that poor, innocent girl."

"I'm already doing what you asked, you don't have to push me to it. I agreed."

"Good. Because if I miracle myself one more time for a good cause… well, Paimon's going to have me desk-jockeying in Hell's basement for a long, _long_ time."

"How is this a good cause?!"

"Because the girl was cursed to only marry a man of her tribe, and I'm giving her up to you! Free of charge. Joke was on her, there's no men of her tribe in all of Media, so I get called up to keep her a virgin. But, if a strapping young man who just so happened to be of the tribe of Nephtali was to show and break the curse by marrying her…?"

"Then, why are you giving her up? Surely that'll cause you more trouble Down There than miracling yourself into Media."

Never before had Aziraphale seen a dog so definitively previcate.

"I like the girl."

"You _like_ her?"

"Sure, I do. Sick of torturing her. Rather move on to something else."

"I can't be expected to believe that!"

"So exorcise me," Asmodeus said with a shrug, standing up on all fours and wandering past Aziraphale back towards the house. "Or let me give you a win. Your choice, angel, but remember: mortals do best with other mortals. Prettycurls of Nineveh in there is no different."

Aziraphale watched as the backdoor opened and the demon-dog flopped over amicably, greeting Tobias and his parents as they came out.

Tobias, presented with a relatively pettable stomach, gave in and received a funny little wiggle in response.

"What a good dog!" Tobias said, to Aziraphale's great surprise. He could only see a demon-haunted village dog who'd sooner eat a man than trust him, but here he was, being cooed over by the young man and scratched behind the ears. 

The jealousy ate at the angel, a strange feeling for a being made of love and light.

"It must be a good sign," Tobit agreed. Aziraphale could blame that on the fact that the old man's sight was well gone, at least. "You should take him with you! It is good luck when G*d sends you a dog, my son."

"Oh, I don't think that's a very good idea--" Aziraphale started to say, holding up his robes to hurry back across the garden, but Tobias was already well-suckered, he could see it.

"I think you're right, father. A dog like this will make a good travel companion, and it would be ungrateful to turn down such a gift from heaven."

"Bark," said the dog, in the plain voice of a man, as it scampered around them in exuberant agreement. "Woof woof."

They agreed to set out the very next day.

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

Aziraphale tried to pack light, and tried harder still not to think about the demon Asmodeus laying at the foot of Tobias' bed. He had promised to watch over the mortal, but an angel could never quite trust a devil, could they? The next morning proved that they could when Aziraphale looked Tobias over for any sign of cursing, or possession, or phantasmal territory marking--whatever other nasty things a demon-dog might do to a poor, sleeping mortal--and found nothing at all. Maybe a few more flea bites around the ankles…

"Good morning, Aziraphale," Tobias said, sandals tied tight and a pack slung over his back. He rushed to greet his traveling companion with a hug that made Aziraphale's stomach take flight. "Ready for our big adventure?"

"About that, well, are you sure you wouldn't rather stay? It is very dangerous, you know. I could just go for you!"

"One person? All alone, on a dangerous trail you wouldn't send two on? No, no," Tobias said, wrapping an arm around Aziraphale's waist and starting him down the path and the northern exit of Nineveh, up along the coast to Media. "Besides, we won't have anything to worry about with robbers and bandits now that we have Fluffy here to protect us!"

"Fluffy?" Aziraphale asked with a wrinkle-nosed look at the dog as Tobias played with Asmodeus' slobbery ruff.

"I think it suits him, doesn't it, Fluffy? Fluffer, fluffykins!"

"Arf."  
  
"... lets just be on our way then, shall we?" Aziraphale said.

Through divine intervention they had no problems at all for the first half of the day, and the Assyrian countryside was something to behold; rolling hills, clear blue sky, and birdsong that made the sweet air all the sweeter. And he found it in his heart to forgive Asmodeus his third-wheeling along on the journey when Tobias took up his arm at midday, and they walked together, quietly taking in the scenery.

When they stopped underneath a lone tree in a high meadow to check Tobias' pack for whatever lunch they'd been left with, Aziraphale scanned the roots of the hills for anything that might look like a bandit in waiting.

"Don't worry about the west," muttered Asmodeus at his feet, his voice below the sound of the mortal's cheerful humming. "Scared every human off round there for miles."

Aziraphale turned his eyes to the east and, finding nothing too worrying, settled in for a delicious meal and a doze during the hottest part of the day. And if Tobias wanted to lean his head on the angel's shoulder, well, Aziraphale wasn't going to be the one to stop him. No, no. That would be the bandits.

Aziraphale woke with a start at the wild cry of several men on horseback, weapons drawn and much more put together than him at the moment, and Tobias leaping to his feet.

"Now that I think about it, maybe it was the east," Asmodeus said, smirking like no dog should, slithering to cower behind the tree.

Tobias unsheathed the dagger at his side and stepped in front of his guide while Aziraphale summed up their attackers: four men with their faces hidden coming at them from the west. When they were close enough, they dismounted, leaving one of their number with the horses while the other three fanned out around the two travelers which they had chosen as today's target.

And Aziraphale was still busy with catching up to Tobias as he bravely and stupidly barged forward.

"Go get him," Asmodeus growled, hackles bristling.

"Oh! Oh, yes," Aziraphale blustered, gathering his robes in his fists to run down after him.

"Quick, now! He's real mortal, angel. Those swords are sharp, and Prettycurls can't just go through the paperwork to reincorporate."  
  
"Aren't you coming?!" Aziraphale cried out as he watched Asmodeus the dog scamper farther in the opposite direction.

"What can I do? I'm just a dog!" Asmodeus said, his voice fading as he ran for the river they'd been following. "Just get that mortal out of the way!"

The angel turned back to his attackers, looking desperately between them and Tobias, who bravely sallied forth, brandishing nothing but a small dagger for protection. With a squeak, he ran to catch up, calling out, "Now, Tobias, don't be hasty! They might--"

But he was too late. The bandits drew their swords as they came closer, menacing looks on their faces, and Tobias got the message that this was a fight. Aziraphale, in a panic, grabbed the mortal's shoulder and blurted out, "Oh, no! Wherever has Fluffy gone!?" 

Aziraphale was certain that Tobias wouldn't buy it, his performance was far too stale and unbelievable--but Tobias turned fast enough to be a white-robed blur, and looked to the shore of the river that ran down from where the last bandit stood with their horses stamping and restless.  
  
"To fight the other one! I told you, Aziraphale! He's a good dog!"

This seemed to be Tobias' war cry as he burst out of the angel's grasp and fully into the fray. At least the stop-and-go seemed to startle their attackers, and it gave Aziraphale the opportunity to miracle in some safety, as was allowed by the very Commissioned By God Herself nature of his quest to guard the son of Tobit.

It did not, however, give him the time or ability to be clever about it, and when he heard the lead bandit's fearsome cry as he brought forth the gleaming blade of his sword, he could only think of their lunch just before their nap, and--

The warrior's scream broke in confusion when he brought down a long loaf of bread across Tobias' shoulder and it broke against his neck.

"Did you just hit me with... honey-barley loaf?" Tobias asked, drawing a hand away covered in crumbs rather than blood.

The bandit and his compatriots paused to stare at the yeasty half of the 'sword' left in the hand of their leader before looking up, stumbling back at the threat Tobias posed now, bearing down on them and his backup clearly in no hurry to join the fray.

"You both have swords!" cried their leader, brandishing his crusty weapon, scrambling behind them both, urging them on with a push.

One tall and one short, they stepped in front of him and tried to forget their confusion in the face of what looked to be a very well-off young man and his servant on a stupid trip. It gathered their spirits enough for them to try the same thing which their leader had in attacking Tobias outright; unfortunately, their actions fared no better. Well, perhaps the massive carrot that the taller bandit found himself gripping was bound to leave a mark, but the zucchini in the shorter one's hands cracked just as easily as the loaf of bread had against Tobias' body.

Bruised and splattered with squash seeds and toasted barley, Tobias brushed himself off and looked between the three bandits all standing aghast. That Aziraphale had, by no real miracle, found a massive branch from one of the distant and long-dead parents of the tree they'd dozed under and wielded it with all the power and prowess of an archangel, the sun behind him seeming to set his wooden blade alight … 

Well, you could have forgiven the poor mortals for mistaking his use of a makeshift weapon for the full Glory of Her Holy Grace--but they would never forgive themselves for the mess they made of their robes.

Off ran the bandits in abject humiliation, and the look of relieved confusion on Tobias' face was wonderful to realize when the young man turned to see Aziraphale defending himself with a bit of wood.

"Aziraphale! What are you doing?" Tobias glanced down at his dagger, which had seemed like not nearly enough at the beginning, and put it away. "Did no one bring an actual blade to this robbery!?"

Aziraphale dropped his branch, no longer needed, and nearly collapsed into Tobias' arms in a hug, relieved that he was all right. Nearly.

He held back as he noticed the mess the young man was now covered in.

"You should probably go to the river to wash up, shouldn't you?" he asked Tobias, bashfully crossing his arms over his chest and smothering down the urge to wrap him up in his arms.

"And find Fluffy." Tobias agreed, a touch of reluctance in his voice, lingering just a moment longer before nodding and heading up over the hill to the shore of the Tigris.

He didn't follow at first, instead choosing to see the bandits off, and note that their horses seemed very disinclined towards taking them anywhere near the path where other traveller victims awaited them. The horses bucked free any time their defeated and soiled riders attempted to draw them toward the east. Aziraphale was busy with a smug smile when it finally sunk in exactly what Tobias had last said.

Fluffy. The dog. 

_Asmodeus_.

Running back to where they had left their things under the tree, Aziraphale looked towards the shore, only to realize much of it was blocked by the steep overhang of the plateau they had chosen to cross. And if he felt much relief to find Asmodeus already there, leaning his mangy body against the angel's personal luggage, it didn't show on his face.

"Did you see Tobias?" he demanded, breathless.

"Prettycurls? The human?" The demon dog yawned. "No. Why? Should I have?"

Aziraphale was prepared to give the demon a good dressing-down when he heard something just barely over the rushing sound of thousands of tons of water through the wide riverbed. Something familiar, and panicked.

"Tobias?!"

"Nope. Just me! Don't think he even came this way," Asmodeus reasserted, flopping over and letting his tongue loll out of his muzzle.

He was happy to ignore him, and Aziraphale set off down the narrow path to cut down to the riverside with all the speed he could manage (turns out that four successive miracles can really take it out of an angel). The sound of Tobias' voice became all the clearer when he got to the water, but still he could see him nowhere.

Scanning the shallows, Aziraphale spotted him clinging for his life to a rock that stuck out of the water like a spire, and with a massive silver fish latched onto him from the left ankle down. Aziraphale gave a scream and rushed to help the poor man.

Where he might have paused to remove his travelling sandals and the soft, mellow-toned robes he wore, Aziraphale plunged into the shallows and wrapped around Tobias to heave him to shore. Even if he was twice as heavy as usual in soaked robes and the extra weight of a massive catfish attached to his leg, the angel didn't need a miracle to save him; the adrenaline rushing through his physical form was all the supernaturality he needed.

He'd brought the three of them ashore, and dragged the package deal of Tobias-and-fish too far up into the grass for the fish to escape back into the water, even when it finally released and gasped in the air. For a moment Aziraphale even entertained the idea of showing pity on the poor creature, but found himself more than a little incensed by the cuts it had left on Tobias' ankle.

With Tobias' dagger, Aziraphale tore a strip free from the still-dry part of his robes, and a set of greasy glands free from the fish, then treated his wounds with them both.

"What is that you're putting on me?" Tobias asked, face screwed up and nose wrinkled in disgust. "It's … pungent."

"It's an, ah, an old family recipe." Aziraphale said, tongue stuck through his teeth in thought as he waved a hand over the bandages and activated the oils trapped within the fibers with a little heat, triggering the painkilling effects immediately. "For, ah, wounds."

"An amazing trick," Tobias said, melting back with a sigh. "I can't even feel the pain anymore."

"Oh, yes, very helpful, this. Treating wounds, treating sores and carbuncles," Aziraphale counted it off on his fingertips. "It can even exorcise demons, and blindness! And the belly fillets are actually quite delicious with a little bit of lemon."

"Blindness, you say?"

And, after a meal of grilled fish that evening, Tobias and Aziraphale found a clear spot beneath another copse closer to the stone outcroppings, and watched the stars, talking about all the various uses of fish bits until they fell asleep temple-to-temple.

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

Rising with the break of day, Aziraphale miracled a fire and began the morning by putting together some mint tea and slices of the leftover honey-barley mana (from Heaven Above and iron below). While waiting for the water to boil, he watched Tobias sleep lit by the glow of the morning sun, and a smile touched the softest parts of his face.

"Sap."

"Excuse me?" Aziraphale yelped, re-busying himself with a pot of water that still hadn't come to a boil buried into the embers. It gave him good reason to ignore Asmodeus.

"You heard me," the demon-dog said, bypassing the angel and loping over to Tobias's side. There the dog curled up, head over Tobias' legs, and gave Aziraphale a wide grin. "You're too soft for him. Don't forget about what happens when angels fall for God's favorite little monkeys."

"I told you, I haven't forgotten the Nephilim. And I've _not_ fallen for him!"

Asmodeus didn't respond to him, but Tobias stirred.

"Aziraphale?" Tobias asked, stretching and brushing the dog (who had the audacity to look sleepy and offended) from his lap. "Were you… talking to someone?"

"No, dear, certainly not," Aziraphale replied. "Breakfast?"

They ate their meal quickly and set onto the road, hoping to arrive before the sun got too high, so that they could rest inside the city walls during the hottest part of the day. Asmodeus followed after them along the road, occasionally running off to bark at wildlife while the two of them chatted lightly about the day ahead and told each other stories.

They walked closer and closer until Tobias and Aziraphale's fingertips skimmed over one another's as their footfalls matched up exactly.

As they neared the city, the dog became more and more agitated. He began to bark at Aziraphale with more and more insistence; especially whenever the conversation seemed to trail into the trivial and their shoulders pressed warm together.

When the angel could see the main gate of Media on the horizon, he felt a tug and heard his robes tear in tandem with a growl.

"Fluffy! No! Fluffy, down! Down! Bad boy, Fluffy, don't bite!!"

"Alright! Alright, Fluffy! That's enough!" Aziraphale yanked his robe free and surveyed the damage with a pout. "Egyptian linen…"

"Whatever's gotten into him?!" Tobias asked, plucking the dog up and away from Aziraphale.

"Nothing, I, ah--" Aziraphale sighed. "Tobias, dear boy, do you know a girl by the name of Sara in Media, by the way?"

Looking up from scolding the completely-unbothered dog, Tobias asked, "Don't think that I do. Why?"

"Oh it's just that I, ah, heard a story from a traveling client, about a girl who lives in Media--an Israelite girl, you know, she'll live in the same neighborhood as your father's relative. And she, well, the story says that she's under a curse."

"How terrible," Tobias tutted, but the look of confusion remained on his face as he wondered where this story came from, so suddenly after a dog attack.

"Yes, it's simply awful. This terrible, wicked and cold-hearted demon named Asmodeus torments her day and night, driving off and killing all who draw close." Aziraphale made pointed eye contact with Fluffy before continuing, "And, the client told me that whoever can free her from the demon's curse will have the blessing of her father to marry her, and inherit his fortune and land."

"Ah? Well, that's lucky for whoever frees her, I suppose. Should help it to happen faster."

"They say she's a great beauty, too," Aziraphale added with a waggle of his eyebrows that felt completely spurious, but Tobias seemed convinced enough by it to look concerned.

"Aziraphale," Tobias said, throwing his arms around Aziraphale's shoulders. "Why would I be interested in her, great fortune, adventure, and beauty or no? After all, I have you."

With that, he did what Aziraphale feared/hoped was coming all along, and leaned forward to steal a kiss.

The angel winced. He ached to lean forward and close the gap between him and Tobias's adorably over-puckered lips, but ultimately, he turned his head and left Tobias to open his eyes, blink out of hurt.

He unwound his arms from around what was, clearly, only his friend and said:

"Ah."

"Ah," echoed Aziraphale. He cleared his throat. "But look! The Western gate is just up ahead. The neighborhood shouldn't be far from there. Come along!" 

He picked up the pace, trying to pretend he didn't notice the heartbroken look on the human's face, or the sly smile on the dog's.


	3. SUNSET

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183218036@N07/49427132902/in/dateposted-public/)

The sun was still rising when Sara stood in the arch of her father's house that looked out onto the garden. She pulled her veil nervously through her fingers. It wasn't the orchards of almond, date palm, ebony, olive, oak, terebinth, nuts, ash, firs, and the perfume they made as the dew rose that drew her attention--it was what lay beyond. The seven man-sized protrusions of overturned earth where the bodies of her ex-almost-husbands rested eternal.

Her heart was torn in two as she thought on her plight.

When she had worked out her deal with Asmodeus, it was for the sake of her father, Raguel, and all that he had worked so hard for over the course of her life. From the time she was a little girl, she had been his princess, and even when their means had been sparse, he had made sure she was cared for and felt loved. As her father became more influential in Media with his skill and quick wit, gaining land and money, he remained her devoted father and pious Israelite in exile. Neither popularity nor financial gain would change the good man he was at the core, and that she made her fiercely proud. 

However, the growth of his wealth and fame of his name had guaranteed her suitor a dowry. The chance to inherit Raguel's beautiful home inside the Western gates, and all his cultivated lands, along with his beautiful young daughter was too much temptation... So, when the demon appeared one day, and attempted to talk her into forsaking her own Aba to avoid a curse he was sent to visit upon her family, she refused his tricks and met his jabs with simple truth: the fortune was not hers to give.

A vindictive (and intrigued, if he was to be quite honest) Asmodeus then threatened to force her to inherit it with Raguel's untimely death. He had her. Sara desperately offered herself in his place, but the demon had already become bitterly charmed by her banter, and refused her.

He would take an offering nonetheless--her husband. As she had none, Sara readily agreed. Then the demon set the parameters: that she must marry within the year if she did not want him to take her father instead, and that she must tell no one of the conditions of her curse.

The smooth and simple way Asmodeus advised her before he left to "find a man worthy of a demon" to marry made her blood run cold.

With her hand forced, Sara chose her most disgusting and inhumane suitor. When her wedding day had finally come, and she had been taken to her tent for the night, she was almost relieved to see Asmodeus there, waiting.

Her mood changed from relief to horror when she had to witness the demon kill a man. 

She tried to argue that he had taken his sacrifice, and Asmodeus tutted her; he'd never specified _how many_ husbands.

Asmodeus left with a suggestion for her next husband--a vile man whom he knew personally--and a reminder that she had by the end of the year to marry. 

And, at first, Sara had thought having the reputation of a woman thrice married and thrice widowed before she could consummate the deed would scare some men off, but her father's treasures seemed to be the only thing on their minds. Or perhaps Asmodeus drew them himself. Valiantly, she tried to drive them off after a time, but nothing worked.

Now Sara felt that the blood of seven men were on her hands, and it anguished her. Albeit, they were seven truly awful men, but that fact eased her not at all.

So lost was she in her troubles, pacing in the garden and wringing her clothes into a wrinkled mess, that she didn't notice the young man with a heavy-laden sack watching her curiously from the quiet and winding path that ran through the homes of the neighborhood.

"Excuse me, miss? Oh, gracious. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, it's just--" the young man said as he hopped the knee-high shrubbery that marked the edge of her father's land. The sack jingled. "It's just that you looked very troubled… are you all right?"

Sara stared at him as though she momentarily lost all grasp on language, all at the sight of this young man doffing his bag with a metallic clatter as he came a little closer.

"I-- no. No, I am not 'all right.' Who are you?"

"I'm Tobias, son of Tobit. From Nineva." He gestured down the road with his chin.

"A good Hebrew name."

"Should be! I am a very good Hebrew," Tobias said, taking her up on her gesture to come closer. "I came to Media on an errand for my father to see his cousin. So. All that being established, I'll ask again: is there something I could do for you, miss?"

"Sara," she said. "Daughter of Raguel. And it may be that you can."  
  
"Just ask," he said, encouraging her with a crooked smile.

"Tell me, Tobias, why do men crave death?"

That stopped him and he scratched his head. "Begging your pardon?"

"What is it that draws them to their doom?" Sara asked, a morbid light in her brown eyes as she gestured to the graves laid out behind her. "I need to know what makes a perfectly nice young man, like yourself, walk straight into the maw of death and ask how best to throw himself into it."

"I'm not sure I follow," Tobias said slowly, brows knit in thought--to Sara, he looked quite sweet. "But, I know that we men frequently have problems reading even the most telltale signs, both for danger and for love. The journey here alone was enough to tell me that perhaps what we really want, what we think would be best for us … well, things aren't always as they seem."

"No, I suppose they're not always that simple," she said, sighed and slumped onto a little bench.

"What, uh … what 'maw of death' am I approaching here?"

"I'm cursed."

"What?!"  
  
"It's true."  
  
"Oh, no, I believe you! It's just that I've heard of you already." She looked at him, incredulous, and so Tobias continued, "The demon who is cruelly tormenting the great beauty of Media! I even have something to exorcise him here with me!! Ah, what was it--oh! Asmodeus!"

With the mention of his name, her eyes popped wide. "How did you know that name?"

"My, ah, friend told me about it. Him. Well, about you, and your plight."

Sara considered this, the parameters of her deal with a devil, and that same scent of fresh-pressed clay tablets that hung from Tobias as it had from the demon before she decided on what to say.

"Do you know the scribe?"

Tobias could have been confused but he knew exactly who she meant, his heart still stinging from the rejection earlier than morning. 

"Yes," he said.

"Then maybe you _can_ help me, Prettycurls. Tell me," she said with a grin, pieces falling into place and her mind clicking with an idea. "Tobias, son of Tobit, can you write a marriage contract for me? Very, very quickly?"

"For you?" Tobias swallowed.

"With me," she agreed, already dragging him off towards her father's house.

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

Aziraphale had guided his charge to the door of his relative, and been present for the handover of Tobit's fortune.

Tobias seemed amazed to have so much money in one place, and they'd had a celebratory brunch, but the triumph lacked all luster. After the meal, they'd parted ways when Aziraphale excused himself to go see a client about something or other. It didn't matter what it was, ultimately, as the angel really spent the rest of the daylight hours despondently wandering the city of Media.

Returning to the gate they entered and the meeting site they had agreed on, Aziraphale kicked around the area looking very piteous, until he spotted, in the long evening shadows that stretched across the plaza, his whole reason for being there: the (literally) damn'd dog.

"There you are, Cra-- I mean, Asmodeus. I mean! Er, Fluff, was it?"  
  
"Fluffy," said the mangy beast. "Where's that human? Gone off already, has he? What a dutiful boy..."

"You'll be happy to know that I considered your warnings. He left with his treasure, and to set off on an adventure which I declined on joining in with him."

"Then, he found the girl?" The dog grinned in a wolfish way, which wasn't all that surprising, but Aziraphale's blood ran cold.

"I wouldn't know," he said, trying not to sound like he cared and failing miserably.

"Oh? A day spent painting the town red with his daddy's money didn't Keep Him On The Side Of Good? A pity."

"No. He's a very honest young man, I'll have you know. He'd never spend what wasn't his, he's very right-minded. In fact, we parted ways well before noon."

"And you've been mooning about all that time? Boy, angel, you _do_ have it bad!" he laughed, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth before it snapped back in and Asmodeus asked, "Wait--before noon, you say?"

"Yes, and I pointed him down Raguel's way."  
  
The angel looked so dejected in that moment, winding the sash about his waist over and over in his hands, that Asmodeus nearly felt pity for him.

Nearly.

"Then he's ahead of schedule. If you'll excuse me, I have a murder to attend." Asmodeus said and shot off, a black mangy streak through the plaza, directly towards the Western gate.

"Wait! Fluffy! Where are you going?! What do you mean 'murder' ?!" Aziraphale cried, starting to run after him. But, it was a lost cause and he was left gasping in the dust with a broken sandal strap.

For there was no creature, man nor angel, that could stop or even slow the speed of a dog when it had gotten a solid goal into their head, whether that was a bit of bread or the death of their romantic rival.

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

From Sara's perspective, all was proceeding according to plan.

She had left Tobias with the easiest of tasks--writing the marriage contract--while she prepared a false wedding in the hopes of tricking the demon and using the exorcism powers of the foul-smelling balm in his bag, which, he reassured her, was backed by the smartest man he'd met. That done, she'd convinced her father to trust her, and now the guests were gathered in apprehensive knots round the wedding tent erected in the garden, milling about in confusion at being called to a wedding feast so suddenly (but not about to give up a free meal). And, after arranging the party, she had dressed in her finest clothes and made herself up like a first-time bride.

Taking her father's nicest linen suit with her, Sara went to find Tobias and ready him for his role of bridegroom. A fine distraction, he was ink-smudged and smiling when she returned, excited to show her his work.

"No time to be proud, get dressed," she said, directing him to a washbasin. "And cleaned! Where's the _ketubah_?"

"Oh! Here," he said, then pointed at the table provided with inks, paper and a scroll spreader as he hurried to wash the inks from his hands and face.

Sara read over the contract while he cleaned up, scrubbing at the stains on his fingernails as they were particularly pernicious. She noted that his use of Aramaic was fluent, poetic even, in his promises of shelter, clothing and his love to her. So touched was she that she almost didn't notice his signature at the bottom. But she did.

Sara turned on him, eyes narrow and hard. "You signed it."

"Do you like it?" Tobias asked from the confines of his wedding clothes in which he was tangled.

"You _signed_ it."

"Um, yes, is that prob--" It seemed to suddenly dawn on Tobias what the problem with that might be. He peeked out a sleeve hole, looking very sheepish, before ducking back in and reappearing through the head. "Is it a problem?"

"Follow me here: you've already signed it, which means you've agreed to it. That'll be enough for _him._ "

"Oh, I see what you mean about the 'maws of death' and how we just," he said, smacking a fist into an open palm. "Run right into it."

"Yeah," said Sara, a hand to her hip. "I never said to sign it."

"I'm sorry, I should have listened," he said. And Sara was twice touched in as many minutes. She opened her mouth to forgive him, but was interrupted by a voice at her window.

"We meet at last, Prettycurls," the demon said, vaguely out of breath and looking relatively goofy as he wrangled his robes to climb in without tearing them. (He knew he should have come in with a puff of acrid, unholy smoke, but all the running had worn him out.)

"Leave him alone, will you?" Sara said, darting to stand in front of him.

"Yeah! And leave her alone, too, demon!" Tobias cried, hand on his sword.

"I haven't done a thing to her," Asmodeus said, leaning with one arm against a wall, as menacing as he could manage while he regained his breath. "Besides, when has that ever happened? When has anyone ever said," he broke into a singularly perfect replication of Sara's voice, " _'Leave him alone!!'_ " A roll of his eyes. "And it worked for them? Name once in all the three-thousand, eight-hundred and something-odd years that it's worked, please."

"I mean it!" Tobias said, remembering his secret weapon and running for his bag. As he dug down for the leaf-wrapped bits of the fish left over from supper the night before, he said, "You'll regret it if you touch her!"

"Idiot. I'm not _here_ for _her_ ," Asmodeus spat. Long legs took him to Tobias' side in less than four steps, and the mortal shivered at the cold, vile--but oddly familiar--air around him. "I'm _here_ for _you_."

"Just-- One moment! One moment!" Tobias squawked, digging faster under the literal deadline. Sara threw her hands up in exasperation, but she knew that she had to take matters into her own hands, no matter how poorly they'd turned out the first time she'd tried…

"Hey!" she shouted, stamped. Asmodeus ignored her. She pushed on, "He had a good question, why can't you leave me alone? Is it because you can't get your sweetheart, so why should I have mine?"

That got the demon's attention.

"Come again?" he asked, standing up to face her.

"You heard what I said. You're jealous. You're jealous of me for getting my sweetheart," Sara said through a shaky smirk and nodded at Tobias. "And of him for getting yours."

"I don't think you know what you're ssssaying, little girl," said Asmodeus, and Sara had never seen him so calm. Throughout all his rantings at her over the past eight months, never once had he been so placid and terrifying, cold white with burning red in his cheeks and his strange, slitted eyes.

 _Good._ Just a little bit more, then.

"I'm not saying anything, I'm ordering. Go back to the scribe, demon, and cry to him instead!"

The words hit Asmodeus like a tsunami of realization slamming into his body, and he staggered back half a step. In that same moment, Tobias found what it was he had been looking for--day-old fish liver left at the bottom of a bag for eighteen hours.

Shoving it into the demon's face, he gave a war cry, "Rrah!!! Take THAT!"

Between the aggressive odor and the sudden realization that the little witty nit of a girl was right, Asmodeus took four further steps back, slamming to the window frame. He rubbed the back of his head; torn between rage, epiphany and confusion, then threw the hand down by his side.

And then, without another word, he left.

Sara watched the demon go, jaw slack while Tobias whooped in victory and scooped her up in an embrace and she went boneless in his arms. All her strength had been in standing up to an incarnation of evil, and now she was washed over with relief.

"It's over," she said, gratefully sinking into Tobias' shoulder.

"Oh, no, it's not! There's a wedding feast going on out there," Tobias said, pointing with his chin at the singing and music coming from the opposite side of the garden and floating through the house.

"Tobias. It's a fake wedding."

"But I already signed the contract!"

"I don't know if I can marry a man whose warcry is 'rah!'"

He began to let her go, and Sara held him tighter.

"But I guess if you already signed the contract…"

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

Aziraphale finally arrived at the house of Raguel, but stopped on the street out front, staring in confusion at the wedding party carrying on outside and showing no signs of being disturbed, at all, by demonic forces--hadn't the girl been cursed not to marry?

The angel ran through the garden and was determined to check every window, find Asmodeus and stop him. A family member of the household found him first, taking his shoulder and giving him a start while he was peering in the window of an empty bedroom.

"Sir? Can I help you?"

"If you'll excuse me, I'm in quite the hurry!" Aziraphale said, squirming free of the hold of the older woman, and wringing his hands.

"The wedding party is still going on," she said. "And it looks like this one won't even be cancelled by a murder this time!"

"I-- it won't?"

"Eight's the lucky charm, it seems," she added, smiling and sweeping an arm towards the gathering nearby. There stood Tobias in a wedding suit beneath the tent, the great beauty of Media on his arm. Her family and neighbors toasted them, and he blushed and grinned throughout.

"Are you with the bride or the groom?"

His chest ached.

"The groom. Well, I was." Aziraphale wrenched his gaze from the happy couple. "But I must be going. Please tell him--"

"Yes?"

He turned his head, gave a sad smile, and said, "Tell him that the Lord and Aziraphale both wish him every happiness."

"I'll do that," she said and left to rejoin the party.

Walking towards the back gate and the winding path behind it, he was suddenly joined by Asmodeus himself. The demon grabbed his shoulder and gave him a smile.

"C'mon, angel, let's get out of here. I'm sick to death of these layers and this beard and this weak wine. Let's go to Egypt, eh? Good beer and cooling linen."


	4. THE FOLLOWING DAY

The Nile was lovely at sunset. The cranes flying across the great scarlet disk of the sun towards the desolate West Bank. The call of songbirds, wildlife, and fishermen over the washing of the water, the scent of green life and rich, black soil. A beautiful tapestry, weaving together the creations of both God and Man ... but Aziraphale was too heartbroken to enjoy it.

The angel, chin in hand, and sat near the shore where the reeds grew tall.

"You told him I hate fish liver," Asmodeus said from behind Aziraphale's shoulder.

"I-- oh. Yes, I did, didn't I?" Aziraphale said with no small amount of relief in his voice as he realized that he might have helped Tobias (he hadn't). He took the jar of beer he was offered but didn't touch it.

"Yep. Saved him. Dirty pool that was, angel."

Better to pretend it was the smell of fish oil, and not the girl's words that had driven him off.

The demon sat down beside the angel, set the jar between his Egyptian cotton chiton-clad knees, and sucked at the straw, now just waiting for Aziraphale to speak. He'd known him long enough, by now, to understand when it was that he needed to get something off his chest, and he had all the signs of it now, right down to the moony pout as he watched the sun sink down under the horizon.

"I really had fallen for him, you know..."

"You don't say," Asmodeus said.

Aziraphale didn't hear his muttering and continued, "I'd never really felt quite that way for a mortal before, but with him it was different. He cared for me as much as I cared for him, we shared so many interests in common and... oh, Asmodeus, he was dreadfully cute, wasn't he?"

"Didn't notice," Asmodeus said, teeth grinding on the clay straw.

The angel sighed as though his heart would break, a long pause and the cry of a scarlet ibis filling the quiet, before he said, "I don't think I'll ever love anyone ever again."

Slowly, the demon's viperish eyes turned to stare dead in Aziraphale's wistful face. His own face twisted momentarily with fury before settling on a deadly calm. 

Asmodeus stood, stared out into the peaceful flow of the Nile, then hefted the toddler-sized jar of beer in a chaotic splashdown mid-river and stalked away from the shore. Away from the angel.

"Gracious! Asmodeus, was there something wrong with the beer? Don't go that way, you'll lose a sandal to the mud... Asmodeus?! Where are-- Oh, where are you off to, now? We only just got to Egypt!"

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183218036@N07/49427133017/in/album-72157712791479213/)   
> 


End file.
